Could've Been
by kandyfan4life
Summary: Set during 4.19 'Shades of Gray'. Lydia's husband is one of the victims of the abortion clinic bombing.


Author's Note: This is my first ER fanfic, something I felt the need to write after discovering the show on Hulu. This takes place during 4.19 Shades of Gray. It centers around Lydia because she is my favorite character and I would have liked to have seen something like this happen in that episode. Please let me know what you think, thanks.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Lydia exits the trauma room where an innocent passer-by has just lost her life to the senseless bombing at the abortion clinic. Lydia rips off the yellow, blood-stained gown, sighing heavily. Despite the many differing opinions on the subject – she has her own beliefs concerning abortion – she can't imagine how anyone could possibly think blowing up a building is suitable behavior. Of course, the overzealous protester that is responsible for the bombing cites the age-old argument that 'life starts at conception'. Lydia wants to know how, if that is truly what the bomber believes, they could endanger the lives of so many people. Why does the life of an unborn fetus trump that of a living, breathing human? Lydia has never heard an argument that explains this.

"You ok?" Jerry asks as she nears the desk. Judging by the look on her face, he can tell there is something bothering her. It isn't the usual look of annoyance or amusement, this is a look of disgust.

"People suck," is her only response. Jerry nods in agreement.

Lydia sits down at the computer to update charts, hoping the monotony will offer her a sense of calm. She isn't seething, she just can't comprehend how someone's mind works if they can justify this type of reprehensible behavior. She shakes her head, wanting rid of these thoughts. People outside of this hospital, and even the ones in it, aren't her concern unless they are in need of her services. She has just started typing, when Mark comes running towards the ambulance bay.

"Two more victims of the bombing are on their way!" Mark calls over his shoulder. Lydia is quickly to her feet, the charts forgotten. She joins Mark just as Doug and Carol come running towards them.

"I thought we'd just wrapped up all the bombing cases," Kerry says, rounding the corner. The ER has been a chaotic mess due to the bombing. She was glad when the last patient was sent upstairs to OR. She dreads what this new, unexpected arrival will bring with it.

Before Mark can respond, the doors from the bay bust open. The first gurney wheeled in by two paramedics contains a woman wearing a paramedic's uniform. Her face is bloody, and the bone is sticking out of her left leg. She is screaming in pain. Her screams mingle with the paramedics' run down of her condition. Mark and Lydia direct the paramedics to trauma one.

The second gurney is rolled in a few moments later. This victim is fighting to sit up. There is a terrible gash to his forehead, the paramedics have placed him in a C-spine collar, and his right arm is bent in an unnatural angel. Immediately, Doug, Carol, and Kerry recognize him.

"Al!" Carol exclaims. Her thoughts immediately go to Lydia; how will the nurse handle this?

"Carol, get these guys off me. Tell em' I'm fine," Al begs, only half-jokingly. His injuries haven't hindered his sense of humor.

"Hayli, switch places with Lydia; have her meet us in Trauma two!" Kerry orders as they pass the desk.

Carol is trying to calm Al when Kerry's words register. She looks up from Al, catches Doug's eye. He, too, appears surprised by Kerry's words.

"You sure about that, doc?" Al asks before anyone else can. They might work with Lydia, but he is married to her. He doesn't doubt for a moment she is an exceptional nurse who does her job well, but this is different. This is personal.

"She won't be treating you; she will be there as your wife. She deserves the courtesy of being notified her husband is in the ER," Kerry explains pushing open the doors to trauma two. Carol and Doug exchange looks portraying their disbelief. Al tries to shake his head, wincing from the pain.

"Dr. Weaver wants you in trauma two," Hayli tells Lydia, touching the woman's shoulder as Lydia hangs a bag of O-neg. Hayli caught a glimpse of the patient being wheeled into trauma two.

Lydia doesn't argue. If the case next door is severe enough, she understands why she is being pulled away from her current patient. She peels off her gloves, tosses them in a bio-hazard container, and grabs a new pair as she pushes open the doors to trauma two. She pulls on the gloves, listening as Kerry orders an array of tests, Carol hangs a bag of saline, and Doug examines the patient's neck. The case seems minor causing Lydia to wonder why another person is needed in this room. She doesn't vocalize the question, instead nears the gurney. A yelp from the patient causes Lydia to freeze. She recognizes that voice. Her eyes widen in horror, her heart begins hammering against her ribs.

"Sorry, Al," Doug apologizes as he removes the C-spine collar.

"AL!" Lydia exclaims, running to his side. She bumps Doug out of her way, only caring about her husband. She gasps when she sees Al's face. Her years of training have her assessing him the moment she looks at him. He is suffering a four-inch-long laceration on his forehead that appears rather deep. His neck is causing him pain she can tell from the way he is tensed, and his arm is probably broken in two separate places. His shining eyes, the first thing about him that she fell in love with, lock on hers.

"I'm fine, honey," Al tries to soothe her. He grimaces from the pain as he tries to reach out to her.

"What happened?" she demands, taking his outstretched hand. Tears are beginning to sting her eyes.

"Lydia," Carol says gently, placing her hand on Lydia's shoulder. Lydia shrugs her off.

"The bombing, you were hurt in that bombing!" she insists, her anger returning. She saw the young man that caused the bombing being taken up to psych as she was working on a victim of the bombing that miscarried due to the explosion. That young woman wasn't even there for an abortion; she was simply there to get a refill on her prenatal vitamins. Lydia is torn between staying with Al or going up to the psych ward and ending that piece of scum's life.

"Lydia," Kerry interjects, her voice can almost be described as soothing. Lydia does a double-take, unaccustomed to such a caring tone coming from Doctor Weaver. The sympathetic look is also disconcerting.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Lydia asks, not trusting her own assessment of his injuries. There could many underlying problems that aren't visible to the naked eye. She needs reassurance.

"I'll be fine," Al tells her, bringing her hand to his lips. He brushes a kiss against her knuckles. Momentarily, Lydia's facial features soften as she looks down at him. She wants to believe him, but she needs confirmation from a medical professional.

"I believe so," Kerry says with a nod. "Let us worry about his care; you're here as a reassuring presence."

Lydia stands silently clasping Al's hand while the doctors and Carol work. There isn't much they can do in the ER besides assess the damage, order tests, and stitch the wound on his head. As they do that, Lydia doesn't take her eyes off Al. It isn't long before the headwound is tended and he is being wheeled off to radiology. An x-ray of his arm and neck, and a CT scan await him.

"I'll be right back," Al promises, running his thumb across her knuckles.

"I love you," Lydia says, her features softening once again. This time, she looks into his eyes, studies the wrinkles and creases of his face. It feels as if the wind has been knocked out of her when she realizes she might have never gotten to see him again if things had gone differently at the abortion clinic.

"I love you, too," Al smiles up at her. He absolutely adores her.

A technician appears in the doorway of the trauma unit, ready to take Al to x-ray. The young man is growing impatient waiting and is just about to speak, when Kerry holds her hand up to stop him.

"Give 'em a minute," she urges. She has never seen Lydia so shaken. The woman deserves a moment with her husband.

Lydia is looking down at Al but hears Doctor Weaver tell the x-ray tech to wait. When everything has settled down, Lydia will have to thank the woman. Currently, Al is the focus of her attention. She smiles down at him, cups his cheek, then presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she says again, this time more forcefully. They stare into each other's eyes, a smile crossing Al's face as he lets go of her hand to caress her cheek. He hates to see her so upset, so scared.

"When I get outta here, we'll go for a drink, unwind," he promises. Lydia scoffs and rolls her eyes. His recovery is going to take a while; they won't be going out for a drink for quite some time.

Reluctantly, they let each other go. The x-ray tech wheels him out of the trauma room, Doug and Kerry leave, and Carol begins clearing away the supplies. Lydia exits the room, walks past the desk ignoring the concerned, sympathetic looks she receives from her co-workers, and makes her way to the lounge. Once inside, she leans her hip against the table, covers face with her hands, succumbing to body wracking sobs.

Her husband could have been taken from her today. He could have lost his life because some bored, irresponsible, stupid kid decided to express his political beliefs not through protest or speech, but with violence. By doing this, he endangered the lives of so many people. He killed a nurse that had worked at the clinic for seventeen years, a young woman who was scheduled for an abortion later that morning, a girl walking her dog, and the unborn child of a woman wanting to refill her prenatal vitamins. Several more people were injured, three of those injured are in critical condition in ICU. Concluding the injury count is her husband - a police officer - and the paramedic she worked on briefly. The unfairness of it all, the fear and anger it evokes in her, causes her to double over, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"Lydia, it's ok," Kerry says gently, rushing to Lydia's side as she enters the lounge. Kerry went looking for her once she had signed off on Al's tests. Jerry quickly pointed her in the right direction.

"No, it's not!" Lydia sobs, leaning into Kerry. Kerry is taken aback. Not because Lydia is upset, but because she is actually accepting comfort from her. Kerry wraps her arm around Lydia, pulling her closer.

"He could've died," Lydia cries, taking a shuttering breath.

"He didn't," Kerry says, stroking Lydia's hair. Kerry isn't known for warmth or comfort. She isn't comfortable in this role, in all honesty. Right now, her senior nurse, and one of the strongest people she knows, needs reassuring. The least she can do is try to help Lydia through this.

Lydia allows Kerry to comfort her until she feels calmer. Slowly, she pulls away from Kerry. She wipes at her eyes trying to make any sign of her tears disappear. Kerry hands her a tissue.

"Thank you, Doctor Weaver," Lydia says, dabbing at her eyes.

"You're welcome, Lydia." Kerry offers her a slight smile then exits the lounge.

Al is admitted overnight for observation due to the concussion he suffered when a piece of debris fell. He has twenty-three stitches, will be in a neck brace for at least six weeks, and a cast for ten. Other than that, and being very sore, he is fine. The doctor prescribed him a pain medication which has made him drowsy. He is hovering between lucidity and sleep. Lydia, still in her nurse's uniform, is curled up beside him in the bed. His uninjured arm is wrapped around while she snuggles against him, her ear pressed against his chest, so she can listen to his heart beat. She has never been so grateful in her entire life. She could have lost her husband today. Instead, they are snuggled together in an uncomfortable bed in a noisy hospital. Al's soft snores cause her to smile. Lydia relaxes, closes her eyes, welcoming sleep and the end of this traumatic day.


End file.
